Page 8

EIGHT

THE DIRTY TRUTH

Natalie

The spoon fell from between my lips and clattered ungracefully to the counter beside me as it bounced off my leg. The pint of ice cream almost slipped from my grip, but I was able to catch it before the worst could happen.

“What?” I croaked out around my panic.

How the hell had he known that? Unless he heard Caroline and me a few weeks ago, but even then, I didn’t believe he’d wait that long to bring it up.

A wicked smile curved his lips as he explained, “Did you know that your iPad also receives your text messages? The sound was on when you left earlier, and when I went to turn it down, I noticed some very interesting messages between you and Caroline.”

He pushed off the counter and took two slow, measured steps toward me. My knees brushed against his bare stomach, and I nearly spread my legs at the slight, inadvertent caress of our skin. That deep desire blazing in his eyes hadn’t extinguished, and the closer he came, the more likely we were to get burned.

“Something about getting me off your mind?” he asked, sliding his tongue across his lower lip. “Have I been taking up too much space in that beautiful little head of yours?”

I attempted to swallow, to clear the nerves clogging my throat, but I couldn’t. Most of the confidence I’d mustered dissolved as he surrounded me. He wasn’t even touching me, yet somehow I felt him everywhere.

This wasn’t happening.

Reaching for my last thread of courage, my own unwavering stare met his. He saw the challenge in my eyes, and his smile widened even further.

“It’s not very nice to snoop.”

His dark chuckle wasn’t what I expected. Neither was I expecting him to reach out and pluck the half-eaten ice cream carton from my grasp. Eyes still fixed on my face, he slid the carton across the counter and leaned forward, bracing both of his palms on the butcher block on either side of my thighs. He was huge. Rugged, strong, and wholly intimidating.

He was effectively caging me in, and I had nowhere to go. Not that I was considering bolting anyway. In that moment, he was my only thought. Him and how far he might take it. My hands stayed clasped in my lap as he assessed me.

“Like I said before your date, I have no desire to be nice.”

He shifted closer until his stomach was pressed against my knees, and it took more force to keep them closed than it would’ve to open them for him to step between.

“So, tell me, Natalie. Did the friendly divorcée get me off your mind?”

Worried I might shift and the outside of my thigh would brush his hand, I stayed so still my muscles ached. When I didn’t respond immediately, his jaw ticced, and the kitchen grew infinitely warmer.

“No,” I finally managed to whisper, and his smile was my reward.

“Well, what are we going to do about that?”

I shook my head, and he tsked at my response. He tilted his head forward until his nose softly brushed my cheek, and I couldn’t even force my next breath into my lungs. With one small touch, all thoughts vacated my mind. I was no longer worried about who I was, who he was, or who we were to each other. My only thoughts were consumed by that moment.

“We can’t have you going around thinking about me all the time, can we? Those dirty thoughts are doing no one any good locked inside your head.”

His hot breath against my skin and the occasional brush of his nose was the sweetest form of torture. I didn’t trust myself to respond. The moment I opened my mouth, I knew all that would spill from my lips were pleas, begging for him to touch me. To not leave one inch of my body untouched.

“Maybe we should set them free—play out every dirty thought you’ve ever dreamed. Even the ones you don’t want anyone to know. The ones you’re too scared to even let yourself think about.”

He ran his nose up my jaw, inhaling deeply as he went.

Each stuttered breath I was able to suck into my lungs was filled with him. His scent was clean and masculine, and it made me dizzy with unending desire that pooled between my thighs until I was pulsing with need.

“What do you think about that?” he asked, and I was startled by the question. My hands were folded in my lap and my eyelids drooped, yet I continued staring at the cabinets behind him. His breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of my neck, and I felt the goosebumps appear over my entire body. “Answer me, Natalie.”

“No,” I croaked out. “No fantasies…”

Did I know what I was saying? Absolutely not. I’d left my body completely by the time his lips grazed my collarbone.

“Mmm…” he mused quietly, and the vibration of the sound penetrated my skin. “Well,” he began shifting back and meeting my eyes again. With his voice so calm and level, it was his eyes that belied the inner turmoil that matched my own. “Then maybe we can use mine,” he finished.

My eyes widened, and that smile graced his lips once again. One that promised gloriously sinful things.

“Yes, Natalie. All I’ve been thinking about since last night was getting you like this. Picking you up and setting you on the counter so I have perfect access to every part of you.”

He shifted closer, but my legs still barred him from all of the access he wanted.

How could this be happening? What were we doing? And why didn’t I care?

“So, don’t lie to me again,” he growled low in the back of his throat. “Especially when I already know the truth.”

He reared back fully, and the absence of his body looming over mine momentarily sobered me enough that I managed to ask, “The truth?”

Standing at his full height once again, I leaned my head back enough to hold his stare. His brown depths scanned my face, and one of his hands brushed the outside of my thigh as he pulled back.

For a moment, I thought it was all over. That he’d stopped before we’d actually really started, and he was going to leave me there, needy and wanting, on the kitchen counter.

But then I felt his touch on the inside of my right knee. It wasn’t tentative, but it was soft, barely a whisper of a touch as he traced that one finger slowly higher. I shivered, although it was so strong that it whipped through my body with enough force that my back arched at the sensation.

My dress had bunched up indecently around my waist, and I watched as the tip of his tattooed finger danced higher until he found the edge of the fabric. The dress moved as I squirmed, and his finger dipped beneath it just enough that my breath caught in the back of my throat.

He stared at that finger, so close to the apex of my thighs I could feel its heat, and he could no doubt feel mine, too.

“The truth,” he said, his voice dripping in warm honey. “The truth is that if I lifted up your skirt right now, I’d see the little puddle on the counter that you’ve been making for me.”

His eyes flashed to mine, silently asking permission, and finding no argument reflected back to him, he brushed his hands over the tops of my thighs as he pushed the fabric even higher. My warm skin was suddenly exposed to the cooler air around us, yet I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

His palms hovered over my thighs, and I could feel the effort of his restraint vibrating through him. Our eyes still locked, he ordered, “Spread your legs.”

And like they were voice activated, my legs parted automatically.

A deep sound of approval emanated from the back of his throat as he peered down at my black panties. “ Fuck ,” he muttered under his breath as both hands clasped my knees and forced my legs even farther apart. His grip grew tighter the longer he stared down at me. His blunt nails dug into my skin.

“Look at these pretty panties,” he mused, tugging me sharply to the very edge of the counter until my ass was barely balanced on the edge. Maintaining his tight grip, he shifted his hands higher, ascending my thighs with an appreciative yet determined touch.

“Did you put these on expecting to get fucked tonight?” he asked. The muscles along his chest and down his arms flexed with each small movement. “Who were you thinking of when you put these on, Natalie?” He leaned in closer, nose brushing mine, before he shifted and breathed against my ear, “And don’t lie to me.”

“It wasn’t him,” I panted. I was strung so tight I felt like I was going to burst at any second with the energy of a thousand suns.

And before I could react, one of his hands darted forward and bracketed around my throat. Shock rippled through my body at the impact, and I stiffened as his fingers settled against the sides of my neck.

His eyes widened, and I didn’t think he’d meant to do it. At least not that way. And I saw the question in his eyes. “Is this okay?”

My answer was to lean harder into his grip. Balancing on the edge of the counter, I braced my hands behind me, giving them most of my weight, which in turn opened me wider for Theo.

He mumbled something that sounded like “beautiful” under his breath, but I couldn’t make it out completely in my lust-filled haze.

My entire body jolted when his thumb brushed my throbbing pussy, tracing the outline of the wet spot on my panties that I felt pressing against me.

His touch was teasing. He rubbed lightly back and forth, back and forth, until I was a writhing mess on the counter. He petted the lace until I was nearly dripping, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had created a puddle beneath me.

The first time he brushed against my clit, I bit down so hard on my lower lip to keep from crying out that I tasted iron. His hand around my throat shifted until he clutched the side of my neck. One thumb teasing my pussy over the black lace, the other pressing against my pulse so he could feel the frantic rhythm of my heart.

It was the same incessant pulse I felt between my legs.

“These panties were so pretty. What a shame you’ve ruined them,” he muttered.

He did one more pass with his thumb over the fabric before he moved them to the side and exposed my throbbing center. “But look at what those panties were hiding,” he bemused. “Those are nothing compared to how fucking pretty your pussy is.”

His golden brown eyes were focused between my legs as he ran his thumb through the dark triangle of neatly trimmed hair and spread my bare lips. His eyes darkened as he stared down at where I craved for him to really touch me, completely unencumbered by the thin lace.

My skin was heated, and my body felt like a livewire. Even the air against my pussy was too much to bear as I shook with anticipation. And just when I thought I would have to begin begging, the fervent pleas poised on my tongue, his finger brushed my clit.

The pad of his finger slipped over the needy spot, and I moaned.

“There she is,” he said, voice deep and breathy. My back bowed, and my body hummed with excitement.

His pace quickened, rubbing me thoroughly into a quickly approaching oblivion. His grip on the side of my neck tightened. I was so wet his fingers easily slipped around my opening, between my folds, and dipping inside of me only far enough to tease.

My eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way as I unashamedly gave myself over to the pleasure. But Theo’s thumb pressed under my chin and tilted my head up.

I recognized his silent request and opened my eyes to find his locked on my face, only a breath between us. When his lips parted, I thought he’d kiss me, and my heart took on an entirely new, erratic beat. But he didn’t. He leaned forward, peered down the length of my body, and spit onto my clit.

It was so unnecessarily filthy that I gasped and writhed harder against the counter as I watched it slide down to my opening.

His thumb found my clit once again and kneaded it in tight circles, applying the perfect amount of pressure to send me barreling toward an orgasm I knew was going to be life-altering.

I wanted to reach out and touch him. To trace the intricate artwork inked on his skin with my fingers and then my tongue. I wanted to dig my nails into his shoulders when I finally broke apart, but I worried the second I shifted my weight from my hands behind me, I’d collapse backward, and I too badly wanted to see everything he was doing to me.

Looking down my body, past the material of my dress gathered around my hips, I feasted on the view of him mercilessly teasing me. Until his hand shifted back to my throat, and I jerked my attention to his face.

The second our eyes met, he smiled and shoved two fingers deep inside of me.

I nearly screamed.

His thick fingers filled me, and my nails dug into the counter. Overwhelmed by the sensation and already on the precipice of an orgasm, my hips bucked forward, and I clamped around him.

He hooked those two skillful fingers upward and massaged my walls until he found that delicious spot that made me nearly carnal.

“God, you’re such a little slut for my fingers. This pussy is desperate for me. I can’t imagine how you’ll look taking my cock.”

An unfamiliar thrill shot through me at his mouth and the dirty words that he used so freely.

Slut.

I was surprised by my reaction to that normally derogatory term. It was a name I’d been called before, but never the way he said it. Like it was simultaneously something to be proud of, something to envy, and the dirtiest, most shameful thing you could be.

And he was right, I was a slut for his fingers. And surprisingly, I wanted to revel and bask in it. I wanted to hear him say it again.

Theo devoured every single one of my reactions and watched me intently as I fell apart around his fingers.

“That’s exactly what you are, isn’t it? Do you think you’d enjoy being my pretty little slut?”

I whimpered and lost myself in his eyes that were raging with desire. Muscles flexing as he mercilessly finger-fucked me, his body tensed as I clamped down around him hard and came.

“Oh, look at you,” Theo said, his tone demeaning enough to make me flush with humiliation. “You’re coming already. Use my fingers. God, you must have really needed this.”

Like I was shot into the sky, climbing higher and higher, the orgasm grew until it crested not once but twice. Unspeakable pleasure racked through my body, and noises I didn’t know I was capable of left my mouth.

My pussy convulsed around him, and I moaned his name.

It was never ending. I kept waiting for the pleasure to cease, for my orgasm to dissipate, but there was only wave after wave.

Slowly I fell back into my body, resituating myself within my skin, and tried to blink through the post-orgasm haze. The most intense post-orgasm haze I’d ever experienced.

The kitchen lights were too bright, and the counter beneath me was too hard. Things I hadn’t noticed before were suddenly coming into focus. Without the pleasure clouding my thoughts, the ache in my arms from holding my weight was brutal, and so was the shaking in my legs.

Theo’s fingers slipped free from me, and I shuddered at the loss. My eyes met his, and I watched his gaze flicker.

Like it happened in slow motion, Theo raised his hand to his mouth and placed the fingers he’d just had inside me against his tongue. He held my stare as he sucked the remnants of my orgasm from each digit, and I wanted to know exactly what he was thinking at that moment. If the orgasm he’d coaxed from me tasted as good as he hoped it would.

I leaned forward, shifting my weight from my sore hands and arms as he dropped his hand from his mouth.

“Good night, Natalie,” he murmured, and in the next second, he was gone. He didn’t look back as he climbed the stairs two at a time.

Legs spread, my breathing was barely back to normal when I heard his door close and the music turned back on.

Shocked by his sudden, cold departure, I sat there for far longer than I should have. Until my legs fell asleep and my eyes grew heavy.

Finally, I slid unceremoniously from the counter and cringed at the wetness between my thighs. My legs shook underneath me, and I stared at the spot I’d vacated.

And the wet spot I’d left behind.

I swore it grew larger, taunting me with the evidence of the sin we’d both committed moments earlier.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. That was not how I imagined the night ending, and my gut twisted as the realization dawned.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

Reaching under the sink, I grabbed the cleaning spray and rag. But instead of wiping the counter, I stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen. Rag in one hand, spray bottle in the other, my mind spun and spun. And as my thoughts collided in a chaotic jumble, they wandered.

Staring unseeingly into the living room, my lungs struggled for a shaky breath.

Theo’s hands, strong and confident against my skin, had felt better than anything I’d ever experienced before. He’d broken me apart so easily and known exactly how I’d craved to be touched. Each teasing brush of his lips, his stubbled cheek combined with the low rumble of his filthy words and the merciless cadence of his fingers inside of me was intoxicating. It was enough to make me forget why we shouldn’t have done it and why it couldn’t happen again.

But all I wanted was to do it again and shame burned hot against my skin. I wanted my son’s best friend. I wanted the man who had nowhere else to go and wound up living in my house to fuck me into utter oblivion.

God , I was a terrible fucking person.

When my thoughts lingered on Ryder, I abandoned the cleaning supplies on the counter and headed upstairs. I paused long enough to turn the lights off in the kitchen and grab my phone before I hurried to my bedroom. I didn’t stop until I was hidden behind my door. Not even when I heard the music emanating from behind Theo’s door suddenly shut off.

Stepping into the bathroom, I took one look at myself and groaned. My hair was disheveled, and my cheeks were flushed. I looked like I’d had the most mind-bending, life-altering orgasm of my life.

Turning away from the view of my sated self, I stripped. There was a renewed sense of urgency pumping through me. An urgency that was screaming at me to wash it away. Wash away all the pleasure that clung to me like I was its lifeline. Hastily, I grabbed a new towel, turned on the water, and stepped under the scalding spray.

I lathered soap on my loofah and scrubbed viciously at every inch of my skin. But it didn’t matter. Theo had already embedded himself so deep within me that any attempt to scrub him away was useless. Like one of the tattoos inked on his skin that I hadn’t even had the chance to explore.

I hated that I’d liked it. I’d enjoyed everything he’d given me—the humiliation, the degradation, and the filthiness that had come along with Theo fingering me on the kitchen counter.

I didn’t want to like it, but that didn’t make it go away. And it sure as hell didn’t temper the thoughts of what more he could do.

Would Ryder forgive me? The thought startled me, and I dropped the bottle of soap to the shower floor.

Theo and I were both adults with sexual chemistry that broke the measly little charts I’d become used to. But if Ryder ever found out about it…it’s a line I never imagined I’d cross but found myself leaping over anyway.

That line was invisible when it was me and Theo. When it was us, I completely forgot that he was Ryder’s best friend.

Did that really mean it couldn’t happen again?

I shook the thought from my head the second it appeared. I was miles ahead of myself since Theo’d left seconds after I’d come.

No doubt he thought it was a mistake, too. One he tried to distance himself from as soon as possible.

But he could have ignored the texts he’d seen. He could have stayed in his room when I’d gotten home from my date and left me to my pint of ice cream.

But he hadn’t. He’d come downstairs with a purpose, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t have left until he was satisfied.

And lucky for me, it had awoken something within me that I wanted so desperately to lean into. Something that made the guilt I expected to feel never appear in the first place.

He was everything I never knew I wanted and everything I couldn’t have.

I was spiraling and fast, so I did what I could to shut off my thoughts.

I reached to turn the water hotter, but it was already as high as it would go. It was no use. My shame and desire were already burning me from the inside out.